Dalya bought a burger
at the burger joint,
bought a beer
at the camp bar.
Sat on one
of the benches,
ate the burger.
Benny sat opposite,
ate his hot dog,
sipped his beer.
They'd been
into Stockholm,
saw the sights,
ate at some cafe
that did good meals.
Rock music churned out
over the loudspeakers,
ACDC stuff.
What you doing after?
She said.
There's a disco over
by the shower block,
he said.
Don't fancy it,
she said.
Where's the Yank girl?
He asked.
She's off
with the Aussie
in the City.
My tent or yours?
Benny said.
Makes no different,
she said.
If they come back
too soon we're screwed.
She ate,
eyed him.
He sipped,
eyed her.
Her knees touched his
under the bench.
Won't be back
in awhile,
she said.
The ACDC ended.
Crowd noise.
Beer stink.
Burger smell.
Led Zeppelin
music started.
After we can,
she said.
My tent is best,
she added.
He nodded,
smiled.
Music got louder,
got wild.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem